Mean Elves
by Crimson Cupcake
Summary: When 16-year-old Aredhel attends Beleriand high school for the first time, she is not prepared to meet the 'conflicted and misunderstood' Three C's: Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin. Fingon warns her to stay away - but unluckily for him, she hates following orders. { Mean Girls AU }
1. Welcome to Beleriand High

Hello and welcome to my Mean Girls parody of the Silmarillion! Sadly, I own neither. The characters are not going to match their role exactly, but I tried to keep it as close as possible while still ensuring everyone's IC.

Sindarin names will be used throughout for simplicity, with the exception of Russandol - this is a Quenyan nickname for Maedhros and means russet-top. Why is it in there? Who knows? I wish you a good read!

* * *

I guess it's natural for parents to cry on their kid's first day of school. But this usually happens when the kid is five.

I'm 16, and until today, I was home-schooled. That means that my father hired home tutors to teach his 'precious' only daughter—but only teachers who had never associated with Uncle Fëanor. We have some family issues. I know what you're thinking. That means I'm a Finwean, and Finweans are freaks.

But that's only Uncle Fëanor's side. My side of the family is totally normal. Sure, my brother Fingon has gained quite a reputation doing stupid things and then calling himself brave afterwards, and my other brother Turgon spends half his time holed up in the library reading, but that's normal, right?

And I was totally okay with being home-schooled, until one day Uncle Finarfin was talking about how _his_ daughter Galadriel had been sent to the most prestigious high school in the small town, Tirion High. Now, Galadriel is insanely pretty, and also insanely smart, so my dear father followed her example and enrolled me there too.

What he didn't realise was that the rest of my extended family were also here. Including the sons of Fëanor.

So here I am. First day of school.

"Come on Aredhel, don't stand there gawking."

My brother Fingon led me to our home room, and it's hard not to gawk. There are so many people—and they're all so _different_! Making paper aeroplanes, doing their makeup, laughing on their phones… and there was Turgon in the corner, doing his maths homework. What a world!

"Don't sit there," Fingon interrupted my thoughts, as I absently pulled out a chair. "That's Caranthir's seat, he'll be mad if someone takes it."

Being homeschooled, and what with my father being just _slightly_ overprotective, I don't actually remember meeting the sons of Fëanor—but apparently I did as a young girl. And of course everyone had heard about their reputation. I hastily changed seats.

"Not there either," said my brother, who had simply taken his usual seat, next to an unusually tall redhead. "That's Túrin's seat in front of you, and he doesn't wash often."

I wrinkled my nose in disgust and decided to just sit next to Fingon.

"By the way, have you met Maedhros?" my brother gestured to the redhead beside him. My forehead creases. Maedhros? Like our _cousin_ Maedhros, eldest son of Fëanor?

"Hi," said Maedhros, flashing a charming smile. I couldn't deny that he was very attractive—tall, well-formed, gorgeous red hair neatly knotted in a manbun. "You must be cousin Aredhel. Nice to finally meet you." He extended a hand—his left hand. I knew from family stories that his right hand had been lost in a freak accident involving handcuffs, eagles, and Fingon, for some reason. Nobody seemed to know exactly what had happened, and both Maedhros and Fingon told a different story every time they were asked, so it all blurred into one big mystery. Caught in the memory, I tried to shake his left hand with my right hand, swore as I realised my mistake, tried to switch to my left hand, and ended up giving the limpest and sweatiest handshake I have ever given.

Maedhros just smiled sadly at me, as if he were used to it.

"Good morning class!" came a crisp, clear voice from the doorway. A woman who could only be our teacher entered, not because she was old, but because she was carrying a stack of folders. She was stunningly beautiful, her dark hair glittered as it caught the light and her blue eyes gleamed bright. "I'm told we have a new student today!" She pulled out a slip of paper. "Aredhel Finwean?"

There was a collective groan from amongst the students, a phrase that sounded suspiciously like, "not another one!"

I ignored them. "Here."

"Welcome, Aredhel. I'm Ms. Elentári." The teacher flashed me a toothy smile that almost blinded me. "Welcome to Beleriand High."

* * *

"I can't believe you're cutting class on your first day back!" I shouted shrilly.

"Shhh! Be _quiet_ sister, or they'll notice!" Fingon hissed, beckoning me to sit down on the grass beside them. "I _told_ you not to follow us!"

Me being me, I didn't like him telling me what to do, so I had followed. And found my brother and Maedhros relaxing on the grass behind the school while first period elapsed. And… what was that in Maedhros' hand? My eyes widened and he hastily hid it from my sight, but not quickly enough.

"Is that a cigarette?" I said, horrified.

"No," he said unconvincingly.

"Come on Aredhel, you can try it if you promise not to tell father," Fingon pleaded.

"I'm not going to smoke, that's disgusting. You two should know better." I crossed my arms.

"You sound like my mother," said Maedhros, a small smile playing on his lips. I noticed that Maedhros always seemed to be smiling, but never because he was particularly happy. In fact, the only reason he seemed to have for smiling was because life at that moment wasn't completely and utterly terrible, which apparently is something he isn't used to.

I stood my ground. "Well, it _is_ disgusting. And it's bad for your health—"

"Oh my Eru," Fingon interrupted at that moment, his face pale as he looked past me towards the open PE pitch. "The Three C's are here, Russandol."

Maedhros and I turned simultaneously. There was a gym class making its way onto the field, and in the lead was the most stunning guy I have ever seen. His long blond hair fanned out like molten gold glistening in the sun, his sharp jawline threatened to cut the very air. His deep-set eyes glittered like the ocean waves, and that _smile_ was the fairest thing in the world. Not to mention that perfectly toned body. Unf.

"That's my brother Celegorm," said Maedhros, whose smile had turned wry and knowing as he noticed me blatantly checking out his brother.

"Oh," I said, feeling my face heating up.

"Yeah, he might be attractive, but he's dumb as a sack of bricks," my brother put eloquently. "No offence to you, Russandol, but I sat next to him in English last year and he asked me how to spell orange."

"Did he also ask you what rhymed with orange?" Maedhros quipped back, and the two shared a laugh.

"See the guy dressed in all black next to him?" said Fingon, trying to point subtly and failing. Not that he needed to point – there was only one guy dressed in full black, despite the summer heat. "That's his brother Caranthir. He hates everyone and everything, and he only ever wears black t-shirts with punk band names on them."

Maedhros massaged his temples. "It's a phase, it's a phase," he muttered, trying to convince himself more than either of us.

"Is it? He's got three piercings and a tattoo already!"

"Do shut up," groaned Maedhros.

Luckily, Fingon had become distracted again. "And over there," he said, taking me by the shoulder and turning me around, "evil takes a human form in Curufin."

"He prefers conflicted and misunderstood," Maedhros said heavily.

"Conflict and misunderstanding takes a human form in Curufin," amended Fingon.

"Actually, I think I'm the human embodiment of those things," Maedhros interrupted.

"Why would you give me those words then? Just shut up for a sec, Russandol." Fingon paused, and when there was no snarky reply, he continued, "Curufin is the craftiest guy in the school. Don't be fooled because he may seem like your typical selfish, back-stabbing kinslaying Fëanorian—no offence, Russandol—but in reality, he's so much more than that."

* * *

"Curufin… How do I even begin to explain Curufin?"

"Curufin is flawless."

"He has a sharp knife and fancy jewellery."

"I hear his cheekbones are insured for $10,000."

"I hear he crafts jewels and exports them… to Gondolin."

"His favourite movie is Inglourious Basterds."

"One time he met Finrod in Nargothrond… and dethroned him!"

"One time he threatened to slit my throat with his knife… It was awesome!"


	2. The Three C's

Welcome to the second chapter! This one was a lot of fun. Please note that all disparaging comments about Thindar-sorry, I mean Sindar are from a Noldorin perspective, so if you're a fan, don't be _too_ insulted.

* * *

Fingon put his hand on my shoulder and guided me around the cafeteria—which was good because otherwise I definitely would have been trampled by the crowds of students shuffling through. "Where you sit in the cafeteria is crucial," he said, so seriously I didn't dare laugh.

Maedhros rolled his eyes. "You've got your typical Vanyar, who look so hot but are too dumb to string more than a few words together," said the son of Fëanor. We walked around a table of gorgeous blondes – the men had perfect smiles and sun-kissed tans, and the women practically glowed in ethereal beauty.

"Your Teleri jocks, who love rowing and sailing and all those weird water sports," said Fingon, as we walked past a group of silvery-blondes who were discussing the most hydrodynamic shapes for ships.

"My father hates them," Maedhros added darkly, "he's sworn to burn their stupid ships one day. And over here are your loser Thindar—"

" _Sindar_ ," corrected Fingon, which was interesting because Maedhros didn't seem to have a lisp when saying other words. "They're this elite clique of hippies. Don't bother trying to speak to them, it's like they speak a different language or something." This group was more varied than the last—there was a tall silvery blond guy passing around some pot plants, another guy holding a hammer, some girls with dangling earrings who looked like your typical tree-hugging hippies and…

"Who is _she_?" I whispered, my eyes fixed on her. The girl in question was probably around my age, but she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. Her long hair, dark like a velvet summer's night, was braided with flowers, and her eyes shone from her pale and delicate face. Her perfect rose-coloured lips were currently poised in a gentle smile, and worst of all, I don't even think she was wearing makeup!

"That's Lúthien Tinúviel," said Maedhros, the distaste evident in his voice. "I think Celegorm's obsessed with her."

My spirits dropped immediately, and my eyes narrowed. _But of course he would be_ , a small voice said in my mind. _She's drop-dead gorgeous, who wouldn't be obsessed with her?_ In desperation I tried to spot some sort of flaw in Lúthien—a pimple perhaps, or a scar? But nothing. As illogical as it sounded, Lúthien looked perfect.

"Frankly his obsession is starting to freak me out a bit," Fingon agreed, pulling me back to reality as I hurriedly tried to pretend I hadn't been analysing her appearance. "Come on sis, the tour's not over yet. Over here are your band geeks."

There were a few guys sitting a table, tuning their guitars and laughing. One of them looked up and waved at us. He had long dark hair pulled into a half-up ponytail and looked strangely familiar. Maedhros waved back. "That's my brother Maglor," he said, "but don't talk to him now, he gets cranky if people interrupt his composing."

"Didn't he win second place in the singing contest last year?" Fingon said.

"Yeah." Maedhros rolled his eyes as though the memory was painful. "Beaten by some Thinda called Daeron. You know Maglor was in tears for _weeks_. But let's not dwell on that, those were dark times," he said, pushing me along hurriedly, "here are the lame Noldor." Maedhros swept a dismissive glance at a group who I recognised as my _other_ cousins, the sons and daughter of Uncle Finarfin. Yep, I have a lot of cousins, but in this situation I was inclined to agree with Maedhros. They were kind of lame. And definitely boring.

"And your creepy Avari," said Fingon distastefully, as a couple of dark-haired guys dressed in black watched a couple of frogs in a box with great interest.

"The Gondolin nerds," said Maedhros, and I noticed a group of people sitting around a table reading a thick volume of Shakespeare. Embarrassingly, my brother Turgon was one of them, but he had always been weirdly obsessed with poetry.

"Here," said Fingon with a grin, sitting down at a yet-empty table, "are the greatest people you will ever meet."

Maedhros nodded in fervent agreement and took a seat next to him.

"And over there are the worst." Fingon nodded towards the centre table, which we had so far managed to avoid. "Beware the Three C's."

* * *

I weaved my way through the cafeteria with great skill, balancing my tray of food and concentrating on not spilling my cup of orange juice. That was, until some rude prick bumped into me, spilling my juice all over the tray and onto my white dress. "Watch where you're going!" I shrieked, glaring at one of the 'creepy Avari', as my brother had so eloquently put it. "You ruined my dress!"

The problem was, he wasn't looking at my face. "Sorry princess," he leered, looking down, and that was when I noticed that my white dress, now wet, had become more or less translucent.

My face heated up. "And stop staring, you creepy pervert!"

The guy didn't look up. It's like he didn't even hear me. If I wasn't holding anything, I would have slapped him.

"Is he bothering you?" said a male voice. It was soft, but there was an undercurrent of electricity, like lightning rippling across the sky. The Avari guy turned around to find Curufin sitting at a nearby table, examining the exquisite craftsmanship of an unsheathed dagger. "Ëol, stop leering at my half-cousin, or I can make your life _very_ difficult." The sunlight glinted off the blade of his dagger.

The guy called Ëol muttered something about the insanity of the Three C's, and left without further argument.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks," I told Curufin, and walked off towards my brother. Or at least, I intended to. My legs wouldn't move, however, when I noticed his brother Celegorm staring at me. I could feel my face blushing again.

Curufin noticed too, and rolled his eyes. "Here." In one motion he took Celegorm's white jacket, which had been draped across the back of his seat, and tossed it at me. "Put this on, or everyone will be staring all afternoon. And please, sit down." He gestured to the empty table in front of him.

I caught the jacket in one hand, put my tray down on the table, and slipped the jacket on. It was too big for me but it smelled good, like the berries of the forest. I took a seat and smiled thankfully at Celegorm, and the returning smile was so dazzling it almost put me into a coma.

"You're our half-cousin Aredhel, right?" said Curufin, also smiling politely. "The resemblance to Fingon is uncanny. Why haven't we seen you around before?"

"I'm new," I replied. "I used to be homeschooled."

Caranthir scoffed. " _Dearest_ Uncle Fingolfin," he said, sarcasm dripping off his tongue, "probably didn't want her to be exposed to bad influences like us."

"But why keep her hidden?" said Celegorm, with a voice as smooth as caramel. He turned to me, and I looked into those deep-blue azures for the first time. "You're like, really pretty," he added, flashing another charming smile.

I could feel my face slowly turning into a tomato. I wished he'd stop smiling so beautifully. "T-thank you," I stammered.

"So you agree? Do you think you're prettier than Lúthien?"

"I—what?"

"Look at her hair, Celegorm, she obviously is," said Curufin. He sighed and leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially at me, "Anything to keep his mind off that stupid girl."

I mentally agreed with Curufin's assessment of Lúthien, and nodded fervently.

"But back to the point," said Curufin, raising his voice to its normal tone, which wasn't very loud anyway, "I suppose our _dear_ uncle wanted to keep his precious White Lady out of trouble," Curufin said, with a smirk.

But Celegorm frowned. "White Lady?" he asked.

"Because she only wears white," said Curufin, with another long-suffering eye roll. "As you can see."

Celegorm certainly could see, even with me wearing his jacket, but I didn't feel the need to hide from him. "Why do you only wear white?"

"Oh my Eru, Celegorm!" hissed Caranthir, "You can't ask someone why they only wear white!" No more than you can ask someone why they only wear black.

As his brothers had a minor spat behind him, Curufin leaned forward again. "You've probably heard everyone talking about how terrible we are, and to stay away from us, but that's not true. We're just…misunderstood."

"And conflicted," I added without thinking.

Celegorm let out a bark of laughter. "She's learned quickly," he said. I couldn't help but smile, but on Curufin's other side, Caranthir's expression was as dark as ever.

"And conflicted," Curufin agreed calmly. "What I'm trying to say is, we're not too bad if you give us a chance."

Caranthir leaned across the table and glared at his brothers. "Will you give us a moment?" he asked me icily, and the three quickly went into a huddle.

I took that time to look over at Fingon and Maedhros – the former frowning at me and the latter looking completely unconcerned.

"Okay," said Curufin, drawing my attention back to the Three C's. He and Celegorm were smiling wider than usual, so they must've won the argument. Caranthir looked sullen, which, I supposed, was normal. "You should know we don't do this a lot, so this is like a really huge deal."

I smiled faintly in anticipation.

"Do you want to have lunch with us every day this week?" Celegorm asked. His voice had a pleading tone in it, and his eyes glimmered hopefully at me.

My smile widened. "Yeah," I found myself saying breathlessly, "sure, of course." _Anything for you_.

Celegorm smiled as if to say 'thank you'.

"Cool," said Curufin, seemingly unperturbed by what had passed between them. "See you then."


	3. The House of Feanor

This is a longer chapter because I couldn't find a good place to cut it off, but I had a _lot_ of fun writing it. All insults in this chapter are purely for amusement purposes of the Three C's, please do not take offense.

* * *

Fingon cornered me the second the bell rang, signalling the end of my first day. "Why were you talking to the Three C's at lunch?" he demanded, as we walked over to his car. It was a silver Porsche – a gift from our father for his birthday. Being Finwëans, we were all pretty rich. My grandfather had owned some sort of mining company, and my father and Uncle Finarfin had taken that on after he passed. Uncle Fëanor had gone into the jewellery-making business, with fabulous success.

"They invited me," I said with a shrug, sliding into the passenger seat.

Fingon's brow creased. "They're evil."

"No, they're just misunderstood. And conflicted." Besides, Celegorm was _really_ hot. I buckled my seatbelt and waited, staring at my brother expectantly until he also got in and started the car.

"That's just Fëanorian propaganda," said Fingon, backing out of the car park faster than was necessary. He barely glanced at the mirrors; he was always a crazy driver. People called him 'valiant' but in my opinion, he was just too stupid to know fear. "You don't want to be friends with them."

"Why?" I demanded. "You're best friends with a Fëanorian."

"Yeah, but that's Maedhros, he's sane! Maglor's not bad, I suppose, just a bit music-obsessed. And I ran into the twins a few times, they're still in middle school but they seemed pretty cool. But the Three C's… they're evil. You really should stop associating with them."

Anger welled up in my stomach. It was one thing for Fingon to be my brother, and be hypocritical about telling me who to make friends with. It was another thing for him to actually _order_ me around. Besides, I hated following orders. "I am your sister and not your servant," I snapped, "and I will make friends as seems good to me. Stop the car."

"W-What?"

"You heard me. Stop the car."

In shock, my brother actually slammed the brakes. We were just outside the parking lot, and I had seen something. Or someone.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and left the car, slamming the door closed behind me with more force than necessary. Fingon's Porsche stayed where it was, uncertain. Maedhros' red Ferrari pulled up with its windows rolled down. Maglor was sitting in the passenger seat, grinning at the chaos.

"A little family spat, cousins?" Maedhros said cheerfully, and drove off quickly before either of us could think of a smart retort. Fingon stayed, waiting.

I ignored them both and walked up to a black convertible Lamborghini, with its roof down and the Three C's lounging comfortably inside. Caranthir was at the wheel, Curufin in the passenger seat and Celegorm in the back, admiring his hair in the rear-view mirror.

"Hello cousins," I said, "my brother is being an annoying prick. Can I get a lift home?" After all, we only lived two streets away from each other.

"I have a better idea," said Celegorm, as he leaned over and opened the door for me. "Why don't you come to our place? Father will be pleased to finally discover what you look like."

Caranthir's stare was murderous, but I said, "Sure!" and got in the back seat. Celegorm draped an arm over my seat back as their Lamborghini sped out of the parking lot, accelerated like mad, and was soon doing almost double the speed limit. The wind slapped my face and ripped through my hair, as the speakers blasted the latest radio hits. I took back everything I thought about Fingon being a mad driver – _this_ was mad. And I loved it.

"I didn't think you'd be into pop music, Caranthir!" I yelled over the wind, music and the roaring engine.

"I'm not!" he shouted back. "Curufin's in charge of the music!"

Curufin yelled something, but it was lost to the wind.

Suddenly Caranthir's eyes narrowed. "I think Fingon's tailgating me."

We all turned back. Sure enough, there was my brother's silver Porsche, not only keeping up with our speed but staying uncomfortably close.

"Slam the brakes," Curufin said with a smile, which made me laugh nervously because I couldn't tell if it was a joke.

Caranthir glared darkly. "I don't want a single scratch on my car, you jerk."

Curufin smiled serenely, turned the music down, and pulled out his phone. A second later, Fingon's voice was on the other end of the line. "Where are you taking my sister?"

"To our place," said Curufin. "We'll race you. Winner gets to keep Aredhel." He hung up.

My eyes narrowed in anger. "I'm not a prize!" I shouted, but my voice was drowned out. At that exact moment, Curufin had turned the music back up and Fingon's engine let out a roar. He was catching up, he was drawing level with us…

Our car lurched forward as Caranthir floored the accelerator and the wind slammed my face. I could hear my own laughter as our surroundings blurred. Celegorm put an arm around me and pulled me closer. "Scared?" he asked.

I snorted. "I don't get scared." Fingon and I have that in common, at least.

Celegorm grinned. "I like a girl with spirit."

"He's gaining on us," Caranthir warned.

Curufin shook his head in disgust. "Lose him."

We wove in and out of lanes, ran red lights, left dark marks in the road as we skidded around corners, and finally slammed to a halt outside a giant mansion I had only ever seen in pictures. It towered over me, a house that promised a hundred rooms, tapestried hallways and plush armchairs. Outside was a beautiful garden and a fountain that featured a craftsman at work in a forge. Maedhros' red Ferrari was already there, as well as several other high-end cars parked in a haphazard fashion. Caranthir parked in a similar way, and we got out.

"We win," Curufin said smugly, as Fingon's Porsche came skidding into the yard.

"I saw the cops," said my brother, sounding uncharacteristically annoyed. He usually quite liked the cops, he said they kept Uncle Fëanor from doing anything _too_ stupid. "I had to slow down."

"You still lose," said Celegorm, tightening his grip around my shoulders. I didn't protest. "Let's go, Aredhel."

As we walked into the Fëanorian mansion, I turned back to glance guiltily at Fingon. My anger was waning now, I could see that he just wanted to protect me. But I was 16, for Eru's sake. I didn't need protecting. "I'll be back for dinner!" I shouted, just before the front double-doors closed.

* * *

"Wow, your house is really nice," I said.

Curufin took one look around their house, and smiled. "I know, right?"

The huge entrance hall was tiled with black and white marble, with huge paintings on either wall. One of the paintings had a beautiful white city gleaming on top of a green hill, and the other one had white swan ships being swallowed up by flames. Tasteful pot plants flanked the hallway and there was even a life-sized bronze statue.

A huge furry dog came bounding at us, with a joyful bark and furiously wagging tail. Celegorm pushed me out of the way just in time, as the hound almost bowled him over and started licking his face. Celegorm was laughing as he tried to push the dog off. "Come on Huan, stop it! I said stop!"

Huan got off his master and came over to me, tongue hanging out and tail still wagging. He was _huge_ , almost coming up to my waist, and more important adorably. I scratched him behind the ears, and he rolled over so I could give him a tummy rub as well.

"He likes you," said Celegorm, grinning as he picked himself up from the floor. His hair was askew, but _damn_ , messy blond hair looked _good_ on him.

In the living room, there were two red-headed twins sitting in front of the TV, each holding a PlayStation remote. They were about 12 or 13 and playing some sort of hunting game, guns blazing as they shot down wild animals.

"Hey Amrod, Amras," said Celegorm, wandering over to them, watching their progress with interest. Huan, ever the loyal hound, followed and lay at his master's feet. "Is that Deer Hunter?"

"Yeah," said one of the twins—I honestly had no clue if he was Amrod or Amras—as his hands worked furiously on the controls.

"I'm winning," said the other one triumphantly, eyes glued to the screen.

Celegorm checked the score. "Impressive."

"Not for long," said the other twin, sticking his tongue out with concentration.

"Back already?" called out a feminine voice from outside, and in stepped a woman who could only be their mother. It was immediately apparent by her flaming red hair, in a high ponytail, and her smile which Maedhros and Maglor had inherited. She had a brown apron tied around her waist, was wearing sturdy black boots, and had just taken off her gloves. "How was your day?"

"Great," said Curufin. "Father's not home yet?"

His mother sighed. "No, he's working late again."

Celegorm returned from watching the video game, and pushed me forward. "Hey mum, this is Aredhel. She's our half-cousin." His mother raised an eyebrow as if to ask 'which half-cousin?' and Celegorm hurriedly added, "Fingon's sister."

"Oh, of course." She beamed at me, her brilliant green eyes shining with warmth. "I've heard a lot about you, sweetheart. I'm Nerdanel, welcome to our home." She didn't move to embrace me, which was thankful, because her apron didn't look the cleanest. "If you need anything, don't be shy. After all, you're family, got that?"

From behind me, Caranthir muttered something that sounded like 'half-family', but Nerdanel and I ignored him.

"I'll get you kids something to drink," she said, tossing her gloves onto the kitchen counter.

"Let's go to my room," murmured Curufin. His two brothers, the dog, and I followed him up a large spiral staircase. On the landing was another living room, and Maedhros was lounged on the sofa, flicking through television channels.

"I see we've got a new visitor," he said casually, looking over at me. "Fingon's not with you?"

I shook my head. "He was tailgating us though."

Maedhros laughed. "Classic. Well, make yourself at home, but don't be too loud. Maglor's composing."

Sure enough, now that he mentioned it, I could hear the strumming of a guitar coming from behind a closed door.

Caranthir rolled his eyes. "Isn't he always?"

We entered Curufin's room and my eyes grew even wider. It was huge and opulently carpeted, with a chandelier hanging from the ceiling and Renaissance-style paintings on the walls. A four-poster bed dominated the room, and in a corner was a huge bookshelf stacked tight with what looked like encyclopaedias or antiques. A glass cupboard stood next to it, displaying jewels which I assumed were from his father Fëanor's company. On the other side, velvet curtains framed the large wall-to-ceiling window, opening into a balcony that looked out onto a beautiful garden. A doorway off the side led presumably to an ensuite bathroom.

I walked in, quite stunned with awe. "This is your room?"

"He was always father's favourite child," muttered Caranthir.

Curufin simply smirked, and threw his bag onto the floor with careless abandon. "What can I say? I'm the only talented one in this family."

His two brothers snorted.

Celegorm sat down in a plush armchair, and Huan lay obediently at his feet. I wasn't sure where to sit, so I took the armchair opposite Celegorm, shooting him a grin which he returned. Caranthir went over to inspect the bookshelf, prodding at some of the books with mild interest. "Got anything to drink?"

"Of course," Curufin replied, his smirk widening. "But not now. Mother's coming up soon."

Right on cue, Nerdanel burst into the room, with a tray full of cookies and four glasses of coke. "Here you are," she said brightly, putting them down on a small table. She glanced over at Huan, lying meekly on the carpet. "You know Curufin, if you let the dog into your room, you're vacuuming the carpet later."

Curufin groaned. "Celegorm, let your stupid dog go."

"He's not stupid." Celegorm scowled, but made a 'shooing' motion with his hand. Huan reluctantly got up and followed Nerdanel as she left, closing the door behind her.

The cookies smelled _so good_ , still warm from the oven, so I raced Celegorm to grab the first cookie. I won, grinning triumphantly at him as the chocolate chips melted in my mouth.

"Right," said Caranthir, who had gone back to prodding the bookshelf and showing absolutely no interest in the chips, "the drinks?"

Curufin shook his head in amusement. "Patience, brother." He too approached the bookshelf, slid out a few giant encyclopaedias, and revealed a hidden crevasse at the back. He pulled out a bottle of vodka, put it on the table, and winked at me. "A present from father, don't tell anyone."

My eyes widened. How old were these guys? Surely not much older than 18—19 at latest! This was definitely not legal. I imagined what my father and brothers would think if he heard about what we were doing. I imagined his disapproving frown, Turgon's dark scowl, and Fingon's exasperated I-told-you-they-were-trouble look.

Caranthir had opened the bottle and was already pouring some into everyone's cokes. His hand hovered over mine. "Want some, Aredhel?"

I pictured my family's disapproving expressions one last time, then shrugged. "Sure." What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Caranthir smirked—possibly the first time I've seen him amused—and poured the drink.

Each of us grabbed a drink, and clinked it together.

"To another boring year at school," said Curufin.

"Maybe not so boring," said Celegorm, "now that Aredhel's here."

Curufin's lips curved into a smile. "Maybe not," he agreed.

I tried the drink, and immediately tried not to gag. The vodka burned my throat and stung my eyes. Maybe Caranthir had put too much in there, because I had heard that most people were supposed to _like_ the taste. Still, I had to mask a grimace as I put the drink down and went immediately for another cookie.

"That's the stuff," said Caranthir, drinking half his glass in one go. He picked up the vodka bottle and put it back in its secret hiding place, but stopped. "Hey guys, remember this?" He pulled out a black book from the shelf, the edges of its pages torn.

Celegorm jumped up, looking excited. "I haven't looked at that in forever!" He snatched it from his brother and showed it to me. "Check it out, Aredhel. It's our burn book. We cut out pictures from the year book, and then we… wrote comments."

Hesitantly, I opened the front page.

 _GALADRIEL – arrogant little bitch_

"Urgh," said Caranthir, making a face.

"I hate the way her hair glows," said Celegorm murderously.

 _BELEG – dumb hippie Thinda_

"Isn't it Sinda?" I asked.

All three of them looked at me curiously. "No, it's definitely Thinda," said Celegorm. I shrugged and turned the page.

 _MABLUNG – dumber hippie Thinda_

" _And_ he's a vegan," spat Caranthir.

 _FINROD – lame virgin_

"Still true," added Curufin.

 _TÚRIN – emo virgin_

"Still half-true," said Curufin, with a crafty smile.

 _TURGON – dull as fuck, lives under a rock_

I sighed in exasperated agreement. "Literally."

 _ORODRETH – the dumbest slug you'll ever meet. Even duller than Turgon_

This one made me giggle. "He's seriously boring," I said, "and I have to put up with Turgon. One time, they had a half-hour conversation about the properties of cabbage."

All three of them laughed. "That's funny," said Curufin, "write it in."

I grabbed a sharpie, drew a speech bubble next to Orodreth's yearbook picture, and scribbled, _'I fucking love cabbages'_. Then beside that, I drew a cartoon of Orodreth making out with a cabbage. Celegorm cracked up, and I flipped the page.

 _DAERON – voice sounds like nails on a blackboard_

"Maglor wrote that one," explained Celegorm, "after Daeron won the singing contest."

 _MAGLOR – whiny little bitch_

"And we wrote that one after Maglor lost," said Caranthir with a smirk.

 _ANGROD –_ _ **ASSHOLE!**_

It was Curufin's turn to smirk. "And Caranthir wrote that one after—"

"Curufin! Shut up!" Caranthir's face had turned tomato red.

 _FINGON – almost too gay to function_

"Wait," I interrupted. "What?" My brother was gay? How did _I_ not know about this? "That's not right. Fingon always has hordes of girls after him."

"Yeah, I suppose bi is a more accurate description," said Curufin thoughtfully.

"But the sappy looks he gives Maedhros are disgusting," added Caranthir, and everyone nodded in agreement.

"Wait," I repeated. The brothers' words seemed to swirl around in my head, none of it really making any sense. "Maedhros and Fingon are _dating_?"

Celegorm gave me an incredulous look. "Yeah, for like two years now!"

"But they're _cousins_ ," I protested.

"Half-cousins," Celegorm corrected. "You have your cousins, and then your first cousins, and second cousins, then half-cousins—"

"No," Curufin interrupted. "That's not how it works. But if it's good enough for them, it's good enough for us, even if their lovesick faces are disgusting. What sort of pet name is Russandol anyway?"

"It's a _pet name?"_ I said, horrified that I'd never noticed.

Celegorm and Caranthir laughed. Curufin shook his head in wry amusement. "I love her, she's like a Martian."

* * *

As it turned out, I stayed at the Fëanorians' house for such a long that that I almost missed dinner, almost breaking my promise to Fingon. With five minutes to spare, Celegorm and I jumped into the car and he sped to my house in record time, his golden hair tumbling free in the wind.

I arrived right on time, so Fingon couldn't ask me any pesky questions. My father beamed as he saw me. "How was your first day of school, Aredhel?"

"Good," I said brightly, refraining from going into details.

"Did you make any friends?" asked my mother, as she set down the last of the plates.

"Yep." I stared pointedly at Fingon, daring him to rat me out to our parents, but he was silent.

"Someone dropped you home," said my father casually. "I saw the car from the window. One of your new friends?"

"Oh…" I hadn't counted on my father being so quick-witted, but he obviously hadn't seen the face of the driver. There was no way he wouldn't have recognised Celegorm immediately. But what should I say? I obviously couldn't tell the truth—father would _kill_ me if he knew I was hanging out with the sons of Uncle Fëanor. "Nah," I said, trying to sound casual, "it was just Galadriel, she's got a new car. Did you see her hair? Beautiful, isn't it?"

"She won't tell me what conditioner she's using," said Fingon. I glanced at him in surprise, and he winked subtly. I felt a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. Fingon was covering for me? How unexpectedly nice of my big brother.

With Fingon also in the conspiracy, the rest of the family took the bait, and conversation quickly turned to other things. As soon as dinner was over, I tried to slip away into my room with the pretence of 'a mountain of homework', but Fingon managed to corner me before I closed my door.

"It was Celegorm who dropped you off," he deadpanned.

"Straight to the point huh, bro?" I flashed him a grin. "Thanks for covering for me."

"Believe it or not Aredhel, I don't want to see you in trouble any more than you do," said Fingon. "But you're walking a dangerous path here."

I scoffed. "Don't get all metaphorical on me. The Three C's are nice. Well, I guess the book's kind of bitchy, but at least it's funny."

"Book?" Fingon's eyebrows knitted together. "What book?"

I bit my lip, but too late. The cat was out of the bag. Besides, I did owe Fingon for everything he's done for me today. "Alright." I lowered my voice conspiratorially. "I'll tell you if you promise not to tell anyone."

"Not even Maedhros?"

 _My God, I can't believe I didn't realise they were dating sooner._ "Especially not Maedhros," I said firmly.

He sighed, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Fine, promise. Now spill."

"Well, the Three C's have got this burn book, and they cut out people's photos and write mean things about them. Most of them are true though," I added defensively.

"What does it say about me?" said Fingon.

"Uh… you're not in it," I lied. What? It was a little white lie. There must be a reason that Fingon was keeping his relationship with Maedhros a secret, and he could reveal it in his own time.

Fingon looked surprised. "Really? Is Maedhros in it?"

"No, but Maglor is. I think they're secretly terrified that Maedhros is going to stumble across the book somehow and then roast them into the next life."

Fingon laughed. "Sounds like something Maedhros would do."


	4. Party in Brethil (BYO drama)

_This chapter involves another favourite female character, really bad maths pick up lines, occasional language, and mild slash. Oh and by the way - trust me when I say that the characters in this chapter have a_ good _reason for acting the way they are._

 _Also to all the readers/reviews who haven't watched Mean Girls - don't worry! The story is going to make perfect sense without the background knowledge. To all the readers/reviewers who have watched it... four for you, Glen Coco. You go Glen Coco!_

* * *

I didn't get much sleep that night—I was tossing and turning, my head buzzing with everything new I've learnt and the friends I've made. Fingon was dating Maedhros! That Lúthien girl was _so_ pretty! Celegorm was a stunner. And most surprisingly, he and his brothers were… actually really nice?

And fun. It was always fun when Fëanorians were involved.

The next morning Fingon gave me a ride to school, still driving so quickly that we had several near-death experiences before we got to the carpark. He dropped me off outside my maths class, ruffled my already-messy dark hair, and said "Be good, sis." And that was it. He was off.

I walked in alone, and chose a seat near the back of the class. I mean sure, I liked maths. I was good at it. But that was back home, one-on-one with my tutor. Who knew what level of maths this class was up to?

But as I soon found, I didn't have to worry. It was dreadfully easy—honestly, I could solve these equations in my sleep. So when the lights dimmed and we began to watch a video, I felt my eyelids growing heavier and my head falling into my hands... until the guy in front of me turned around.

Suddenly wide awake, my face turned as white as my dress.

It was the creepy guy who had spilled juice on me in the cafeteria yesterday, and he had obviously not been cowed by Curufin's threats.

"Hey princess," he murmured, winking at me, "you bored? Me too, the only number I care about is yours."

I rolled my eyes. "No thanks."

He only leered at me. "Would you like to see the exponential growth of my natural log?"

My mouth dropped open in horror. "No! Now shut up!" I looked around—everyone was still distracted by the video, and nobody heard him. _Please don't continue, please just shut up…_

"But princess, you're too distracting. Can I plug my solution into your equation?"

I gritted my teeth and turned away, staring stubbornly at the wall and refusing to acknowledge his presence. Maybe if I ignored him for long enough…

But then a new voice hissed, "Ëol, shut the fuck up this instant or I will crack your skull open with a mace."

I looked over at the girl next to me who had spoken. She had her hair up in a messy ponytail, and fiery eyes that were glaring straight at the creepy guy, Ëol. She cracked her knuckles and, with a disappointed grimace, Ëol turned back to the front.

My sigh of relief was audible. "Thanks," I whispered to my neighbour.

She grinned. Her teeth were crooked and the laugh lines around her eyes were genuine. "Don't mention it. He's always been a lecherous creep." She extended a hand towards me. "I'm Haleth."

I shook it, smiling back. "Aredhel."

"Nice to meet you. Don't worry about him," she said, jerking her head towards Ëol, "next time we can swap seats. He knows not to mess with me."

If possible, my smile grew wider. "Appreciate it." Then, because I wanted to continue chatting but couldn't think of anything else to say, I asked, "How's the video? I haven't exactly been paying attention."

Haleth snorted, glancing at the projector which currently seemed to be explaining the Fibonacci sequence. "Damned if you ask me. I hate this stupid subject."

I chuckled quietly. "Yeah, me too." I avoided mentioning that the reason I hated it was because it was too _easy_.

"Listen, Aredhel, I'm throwing a party tonight, starts at 8. Back for another dull year, you know the drill. You seem pretty cool, wanna come? It'll be medieval fantasy themed."

I brightened. Second day of school, and already invited to a party? "You bet! Can I bring some friends?"

"Sure, bring all the girls you like. As for the guys, only bring the hot ones." The two of us shared a quiet laugh at the back of the class. "And make sure you dress up," Haleth added, "people take these things pretty seriously."

When the bell rang, Haleth had to rush off to another class in a different building, but not before we exchanged numbers and she texted me her address. By the time I had finished packing up my things, the classroom was almost empty—to my relief, Ëol had also left quickly. But just as I headed out the door, someone stepped out in front of me.

"Hey," he said. I almost didn't recognise him because he looked so different with his hair down, but it was my cousin Maglor.

"Hi," I said, and then ran out of things to say.

"Nice to see you at our house yesterday. Well, I didn't actually _see_ you, but I heard you." He suppressed a grimace, as though our conversation had seriously interrupted his music. I was going to give a heart-hearted apology, but he quickly moved on. "Anyway listen, you wouldn't happen to play any instruments, would you?"

 _Why are you asking me?_ I thought, but replied, "Yeah, I kinda play guitar." Fingon had taught me as a kid, but I'm pretty sure he only learned it to impress Maedhros.

Maglor brightened. "Sweet. Do you want to join our band? We get extra funding if we have a girl, and we'd really like some t-shirts."

Almost instinctively, I looked down at his t-shirt. Like Caranthir's it was a band t-shirt, but _unlike_ Caranthir's metal bands, it seemed to be referencing some obscure classical music joke that I didn't get.

"Some new t-shirts," Maglor clarified, going slightly pink. "This one is kind of dated."

Our maths teacher, Ms. Nienna, looked up from her desk, where she had been putting the last of her papers into a folder. "You know it's a good idea, Aredhel," she said, nodding encouragingly at m. "It'd be fun and you can put it on your CV."

"Yeah," I said absent-mindedly, but then realised that I actually did agree. It _would_ be fun to have a group to jam out with once in a while. "Sure, that sounds great."

Maglor beamed. I was mildly freaked out because his expressions always looked perpetually melodramatically sad, and seeing him smile was a bit… weird. "Cool," he said happily. "Practice is 4-6 every Wednesday at our cousin Finrod's. You know where he lives, right?"

Today was a Wednesday. I wracked my memory to remember what suburb Finrod lived in. "Yeah, Nargothrond right? I can't come tonight though, there's a party on."

"Oh yeah, Haleth's. She managed to convince us to play for her tonight, so I'll be there. See you." Maglor left whistling what sounded like a Mozart concerto, which I supposed was as cheerful as classical music got.

That left me and Ms. Nienna. I tried to awkwardly shuffle out of the class without her noticing, but she caught me.

"A party already? A bit irresponsible, isn't it? It's only the second day of school." I had the feeling that Ms. Nienna might be making fun of me, but though she was nice enough, she never smiled so I couldn't be sure.

"It's just a small thing," I said, trying to brush it off. "Just to celebrate starting school again."

Ms. Nienna picked up her belongings and her eyes twinkled knowingly. "With Haleth, it's never just a small thing."

* * *

Turns out, Ms. Nienna was right.

I spent the rest of the day frantically making my costume with Fingon and Maedhros, who had come over. He came under the pretence that the Three C's were driving him mad, but I was pretty sure he just wanted to spend time with my brother. Since the theme was medieval fantasy, Fingon was dressing up as King Arthur or something—he spent an hour trying to get his crown right—and Maedhros was going as the wizard Merlin. Which is _dumb_ because they made a whole TV show about that romance and Fingon still hasn't admitted to me that he's dating Maedhros.

As for me? I'm going as that warrior princess chick Éowyn from _Lord of the Rings_. She wears white too and _damn_ , she's cool. I briefly considered dressing Turgon up as a Nazgul so I could stab him in the face with my wooden sword, but he was against that idea, for some reason.

"Do you know what your brothers are going as?" I asked Maedhros, partly out of sheer curiosity, and partly out of the unlikely hope that Celegorm was dressing up as Faramir.

"Maglor's going as an elf." Maedhros rolled his eyes. "A minstrel bard is so clichéd. But I think the Three C's are going as princes, which is even worse."

Princes? I brightened. Faramir was a prince, right? _Not really, no_ , some small part of my brain informed me, but I ignored it.

"The twins aren't going?" asked Fingon.

Maedhros shook his head. "They're too young. They begged me to sneak them in but mother would kill me if she ever found out."

The party start time of 8pm came and left. In fact, 9pm wandered in, decided nah, and left too. Fingon and I had been ready for ages, but Maedhros was fussing over how his robe looked funny when he walked. I told him nobody would even notice, let alone care, but he told me that _he_ cared, and that was enough. Why was my brother dating this guy again?

By the time we were on our way in Fingon's Porche, it was nearing 10pm and I was starving. I hoped Haleth's place had good food, because at this rate I was going to pass out from starvation before I got to dance with Celegorm. And I was definitely going to get that dance, because this white dress was _gorgeous_. It had beautiful flowing sleeves and the skirt floated airily along when I balanced precariously on my shining stilettos. On top of that, a leather corset accentuated my figure—it had once belonged to my great-grandmother, who bought it like 300 years ago or whenever corsets were still in fashion.

Oh, and the wooden sword strapped to my side. Can't forget about that.

The party was already in full swing by the time we parked next to Haleth's house. It wasn't very big, certainly nothing like my place, but it had a huge backyard that was rigged with flashing lights and bunting and streamers flowing from some huge trees.

By the time we entered, we weren't even fashionably late anymore—we were just late. The food was already half-eaten, and Maglor and his band were rocking out on a makeshift stage near the side. And I don't care if he came second-best in some stupid contest last year, his voice was the _best_ I had ever heard.

Haleth let out a shout of delight when she saw us come in. She came over and squeezed the breath out of my lungs with a hug, almost toppling me over in the process. "Nice to see you could make it," she said, grinning. Her cheeks were flushed red—the party _had_ started, after all—but she was still fine on her feet. "And these guys are your friends?"

"My brother Fingon and our cousin Maedhros," I said, gesturing.

"Wow," said Haleth, sounding impressed, "your family has good genes."

"Thanks," was all I could think to say.

But I was rescued from making further conversation by a loud, familiar voice.

"Aredhel!"

It was Celegorm, practically pushing the crowd aside to get to me. Curufin and Caranthir followed, both looking as though they'd rather be somewhere else. They were all wearing tunics or something, elaborately decorated with all sorts of golden thread and jewellery. Still, the only way I could tell they were supposed to be princes was by the crown on each of their heads.

Celegorm pulled me into an embrace, and I almost lost my balance for the second time that night. "You look good, Aredhel." His words were slightly slurred and I could smell the alcohol in his breath, but they still meant a lot to me.

"You guys are late," said Caranthir accusingly, glaring daggers at Maedhros, as though he knew it was his fault.

Celegorm reluctantly let me go, sensing trouble, but Maedhros just shrugged. "Perfection takes time." He swirled his robes dramatically and left with Fingon, presumably to find some food or make out in a bush somewhere.

Haleth was glaring at the Three C's—she had probably heard of their reputation, but I still felt a need to introduce them. "These are my other cousins," I told her. "Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin."

"Oh," scoffed Haleth, looking at the Three C's disparagingly. "I did wonder who had invited these guys. I remember explicitly telling Maglor not to, but if you're Aredhel's guests I can't exactly kick you out."

I felt my face flush. _Oops_.

"What?" Caranthir snapped, "Do you think we gate-crashed?"

"Wouldn't put it past you," Haleth said coolly.

My cousin took a step forward, his face turning dangerously ruddy. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Curufin put a hand on Caranthir's shoulder, and steered him firmly backwards. "Brother, let's not upset the host." He turned to Haleth with a cold smile. "Don't worry, we'll behave ourselves."

"Whatever," muttered Caranthir, his face still red, "let's go get food." This was something I could definitely get behind. We weaved our way through the crowd towards the food tables, and I was so hungry that I ate my way through three cold chicken wings and two tasteless hot dogs before I realised that Celegorm hadn't followed us to the food.

"Where's…?"

The question died on my lips when I spotted his familiar blond hair in the crowd. He had stopped to talk with someone with long, raven hair, and as I craned my neck to get a better view, the stranger turned towards me.

My face paled.

It was the gorgeous girl I had seen at the cafeteria yesterday, Lúthien Tinúviel. She was wearing in a stunningly beautiful grey dress and around her neck was a necklace with a shining gemstone. The tips of two pointed ears were just visible through her shimmering dark hair—the Elven Princess look suited her perfectly. Maedhros' words echoed in my mind. _I think Celegorm's obsessed with her._

 _Celegorm's obsessed with her._

I could feel my whole world crumbling around me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. Celegorm brushed a piece of hair out from her perfect eyes, he hooked his other hand around her waist, and…

I screamed, but no sound came out. My jaw hung limply, my eyes were wide, my stomach felt like it was going to fall out my butt. I had this lump in my throat like after you dry-swallow a big pill. Celegorm was making out with Lúthien—actually, it looked more like he was trying to eat her face off, but I digress—he was _kissing her_ right in front of me!

Without a word, I stormed away, my vision blurring with tears. I hated Celegorm, I _hated_ him, and his two brothers as well! I was _so stupid_ to befriend them! Why did I ever think I had a chance with him? Lúthien was so much prettier than me, and anyway, he was my cousin!

 _Half-cousin_ , said the small voice in my head, but I silenced that too.

I stumbled out onto the sidewalk, tripped over air and crashed painfully onto the concrete. I gasped in pain—through my tears, I could see red painting my hands and knees. I threw off my stilettos furiously and took off running bare-foot, ignoring the fact that Haleth's house in Brethil was at least half an hour drive from Hithlum, where I lived.

I hadn't been running for long when a familiar-looking car with high-beam headlights pulled over and Fingon jumped out. "What happened to you sis?" he shouted, gaping at my tear-stained face, bloody hands and knees, torn dress and lack of shoes.

I stubbornly blinked away the last of my tears. "Long story," I said, hiccupping, and my brother laughed despite himself.

"Come on, let's go home. And _please_ be quiet up the stairs. If father sees you like this he'll skin me alive."

We dropped Maedhros off on the way home, then crept up the stairs like thieves in the night. It wasn't even that late—barely midnight—but our parents and Turgon slept early like the good citizens of society they were, leaving Fingon and I to be the mischief makers.

We entered my room, and turned on the light. I washed my face and Fingon dressed my wounds, and I felt a rush of gratitude towards my brother, who had really tried _so hard_ to be the best brother he could be. "Thanks," I murmured, as he bandaged my knee. It was a big deal—I had always taken him for granted.

He grinned in reply. "Just wear pants tomorrow sis, and our parents won't even notice." He sat beside me on my bed and suddenly looked serious. "Now, do you want to tell me what happened?"

So I spilled everything. From Curufin's bottle of vodka hidden in his bookshelf to Celegorm's giant dog to Ëol being creepy, I left no stone unturned.

Fingon was looking decidedly worried by the time I had finished.

"Aredhel," he said gently, "why does it sound like you like Celegorm?"

 _Because I do_ , said my brain, but I kept my mouth firmly shut.

"He's your cousin," Fingon admonished.

My mouth couldn't keep shut any longer. "Yeah but he's my half-cousin," I blurted out.

"That only makes it half better! Besides, you know how father is always going on about how we should consider them full cousins, share the family love and everything."

"Yeah but…" I wracked my brain for some sort of comeback. "It's not like you can talk! You're dating Maedhros!"

I clapped my hands to my mouth as soon as those words slipped from my mouth. Fingon's eyes narrowed and he suddenly jerked away from me, as though I had slapped him.

"How do you know that?" my brother said quietly.

I mumbled something that was muffled by my hand, but he pulled my hand away and forced me to speak. "The Three C's told me," I whispered, my heart threatening to jump out of my throat. "Please brother, I didn't mean to find out, it was an accident. And—and I didn't tell you I knew because I wanted you to open up to me in your own time. But it's not like I care who you're dating, actually I—I think Maedhros is great for you, you guys are cute together, even if—even if he is our half-cousin," I finished lamely.

Fingon stared at me for a long moment, silent. I cursed my tongue for running on, certain that he was going to explode at any moment. Probably kick me out of the house and never speak to me again. But after what felt like several hours, he managed a smile.

"Love doesn't give a rat's ass about gender or bloodline," he said.

That was probably the most profound thing I had ever heard my brother say. I tried to follow it up with something equally profound. "And I no longer give a rat's ass about Celegorm." Okay, that wasn't _quite_ as deep as I thought it would be, but whatever. "I should have listened to you from the start. The Three C's are evil."

Fingon bit his lip, deep in thought. "We can fix this," he said at length. "I have a plan."

* * *

 _Now, before you all flame and murder me, trust me when I say_ _Lúthien has a very good reason for doing this, and it will be entirely in character once it's revealed. What is this reason? You'll have to wait to find out ;)_


End file.
